


Smoke Signals

by Spikedluv



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe, Incomplete, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-06
Updated: 2011-06-06
Packaged: 2017-10-20 05:05:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/209052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spikedluv/pseuds/Spikedluv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xander, a member of the Sunnydale Fire Department, meets Spike when a fire breaks out at The Bronze, where he and his band are performing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smoke Signals

**Author's Note:**

> Human AU. Written for Fall for S/X.
> 
> Written: Nov/Dec 2004

Spike was lost in the music, his eyes closed as he leaned close to the microphone, his hands wrapped around the grip like a tender lover, his lips nearly brushing the foamy head. His first indication of trouble came when the tenor of the audience changed. The voices raucously singing along with the band tapered off, and an odd hush filled the room, then the sounds of excited voices raised in alarm ensued, and the loud clanging of the smoke detectors that finally went off.

Spike opened his eyes and looked out at the dance floor, but the stage lights blinded him to the darkness beyond. Then he heard screams, and smelled the smoke. Shit! he thought. A fire. In a dance club. How bloody cliche could you get? No one seemed to be taking immediate charge of the situation, so Spike decided to see if he could diffuse the growing panic until someone better prepared for the job came along.

“Okay, folks, don’t panic,” he said over voices already raised in panic. “Please remain calm, and proceed to the nearest exit in an orderly manner.” He watched the club’s patrons rush toward the exits in a manner that was anything but orderly, frantically pushing and shoving others out of their way. He shook his head, then turned to his band. “Let’s get the hell out of here, yeah?”

Angel stood in front of his drums, sticks clutched tight in his fist, a frown marring his usually handsome face. “That contract we signed covers us for lost equipment, right?” He gave his beloved drum set a lingering look, then turned to Spike with a glare.

Spike, who had been serving as the band’s manager since they fired the git who had been skimming fifty percent off the top for six months before they caught him at it, nodded. “Yeah,” he yelled over the clamor, “but I bloody well hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Gunn had unplugged his keyboard from the sound system and was holding it close to his body, like a lover. Oz’s guitar strap was still slung over his shoulder.

“Lead the way,” Spike told him, and ushered the other two after the guitarist, whose hair stuck up in fire engine red spikes this night. Spike snorted at the coincidence as Oz led them backstage and down the hall towards the rear exit of The Bronze.

“Good thing the girls didn’t come tonight,” Gunn said, yelling to be heard over the frightened crowd.

“Angel’ll kill you, he hears you say that,” Spike warned.

Gunn laughed. “English knows I’m only picking on him.”

“It ain’t Wes you need to be worried about,” Oz cut in.

The way was crowded, but not as much of a crush as in the front of the club. They had nearly reached the exit door when Spike remembered Maddy. He grabbed Oz’s arm to get the other man’s attention. “I need to go get Maddy,” he yelled.

“What?” Oz yelled back.

“Maddy! You guys go on, I’ll be right out!” Spike turned and pushed his way back through the throng striving to get out of the club, back towards the room they’d been given to use as a dressing room. He now had a notion of how salmon felt, he thought, as he squirmed through the mass of bodies.

The hallway cleared suddenly when he got near back stage, everyone having already vacated the area. He ran to the dressing room and pushed the door open. Smoke swirled out into the hallway and Spike mentally slapped himself for not checking the door first. Luckily, there were no flames that he could see, but the smoke was pretty heavy, and the room was becoming even more clogged as the smoke billowed out of the air vents near the ceiling.

He coughed and waved a hand in front of his face in a futile attempt to clear the smoke away before making his way to where he remembered leaving Maddy. His eyes were watering and he was having trouble breathing. Disoriented by the smoke, it took him longer to find Maddy than he’d thought it would.

Eyes closed against the burning smoke, Spike’s hand closed over her neck, and he grabbed Maddy and ran. The air in the hallway was clearer, but not by much. Before he reached the exit, he had to pause in an attempt to catch his breath. He bent over, one hand on his knee for support, and the other holding Maddy in a death grip. A severe bout of coughing nearly drove him to his knees, and he slumped against the wall.

~*~*~*~

Xander jumped off the fire truck as it pulled up in front of The Bronze, lights flashing and siren blaring. Paul and Larry had already started pulling out the hoses so they could get them attached to the fire hydrants. Xander grabbed his oxygen tank and axe, and then joined the half dozen other firefighters already gathered around Chief Giles. The Chief quickly and efficiently handed out their assignments and they disbursed.

Xander and his partner, Kevin, were part of Search and Rescue Squad. Their job was to make sure that everyone was out of the building while others fought the actual fire. Xander had worked the hose for three years until a position opened up in S&R. After talking about it with Willow, his best friend, and Faith, his partner when he was on the hose, he decided to let the Chief know he was interested. While Willow and Faith weren’t, Xander was still a little bit surprised he’d gotten the position he’d now held for two years.

Tonight he and Kevin had been ordered to enter the club by the rear exit and make sure everyone had made it safely out of the building. The remaining S&R crews were charged with entering the building via the other two exits, located at the front and side of the building. Xander and Kevin quickly donned their oxygen tanks, and then ran around to the back of the club.

People were milling about, some confused and frightened, and some just wanting to be part of the excitement. Since their response time had beaten the Sunnydale Police Department’s, unsurprisingly, Xander and Kevin had to push their way through the crowd. “Excuse us,” Xander called. “Excuse us. Please clear away from the building.” He wasn’t surprised when no one moved.

When they got to the back of the building Xander saw that three men, all clutching musical instruments of some sort, were standing worriedly just outside the range of the smoke rolling out the back door, arguing amongst themselves.

“We should go back in there!” the tall brunette said adamantly as he waved what looked like a drumstick. “He could be hurt!”

“We wouldn’t be able to find him in all that smoke,” the bald black man who was holding a keyboard replied. “We’d probably just get _ourselves_ lost.”

“Gunn’s right, Angel,” the unnatural-redhead with a guitar slung over his shoulder calmly declared. “The firemen are here now. We should let them do their job.”

“What’s wrong?” Xander asked briskly. “Someone in there?”

“Yes! Spike’s in there. You have to get him out!” Angel replied. Gunn put a calming hand on the brunette’s shoulder.

“Our friend, Spike, is still in there,” the fellow with the interesting dye-job said. “We were almost to the door when he went back.”

“He’ll be devastated if he doesn’t find Maddy,” Angel said softly, to no one in particular.

“There’s someone else in there? Where was he headed?” Xander asked as he expertly hooked the mask over his face,

“Our dressing room. It’s behind the stage. Down this hall here and to the left.” Gunn pointed.

Xander nodded at the three men and then turned to the building. Probably some drugged up groupie, he thought uncharitably, glancing at Kevin before heading into the club. They’d worked together for over a year now, and didn’t need to speak, each confident that the other knew his job well and would be there to back them up should trouble arise.

Xander was in the lead as they entered the building. Not far into the smoke-filled interior the beam from his flashlight fell upon a dark form. He clicked his radio. “I’ve got something,” he reported to Kevin.

“What can you see?” Kevin responded.

“Looks like a man,” Xander said as he moved closer to the figure. “If it’s him, he almost made it back to the exit.”

Xander knelt beside the man who was down on one knee, supporting himself against the wall with his shoulder, pulled off his glove, and reached out to check for a pulse. “He’s still alive. We need to get him out of here. Help me lift him.”

Xander and Kevin each grabbed the man, Spike, if this was the same man the men outside had been worried about, under an arm and lifted him to his feet. “‘M all right,” Spike claimed, struggling to gain his feet. “I can walk.”

They ignored him, looped his arms over their shoulders, and carried him towards the exit. Spike was holding something large in his hand, and it kept bumping Xander as the two firefighters made their way out of the club with the man. “Can we leave this behind?” he asked, attempting to remove it from Spike’s tight grip.

“No,” the other man growled.

Since they’d nearly reached the doorway, Xander gave up and just concentrated on getting him out of the smoke and over to an ambulance so he could be treated for smoke inhalation. As soon as they cleared the door, the three men converged on them.

“Spike! Are you all right?” one of the men spoke, though Xander didn’t see who it was.

“‘M fine,” Spike replied, and promptly started choking.

Xander snorted. He and Kevin carried Spike over to the nearest ambulance and sat him on the ground. “Was there anyone else in there?” Xander asked him, remembering one of the other men mentioning a ‘Maddy’.

“No,” Spike said, choking again. “Didn’t see anyone.”

Xander nodded brusquely, spoke briefly with one of the paramedics, and left the man they’d rescued to their tender care. On the way back to the club, Xander radioed the Chief to check in and let him know what their status was, then followed Kevin back into the smoke-filled club.

~*~*~*~

Spike felt like a bloody idiot. He couldn’t believe he’d been overcome by the smoke, and so close to the exit, too. He could see the doorway, until the smoke got too thick, but he couldn’t get there. He was almost embarrassed to look his band mates, who were still hovering near him, in the eye. At least he got Maddy out of there; hopefully she hadn’t received any damage from the smoke.

One of the paramedics put an oxygen mask over his face and checked his vitals. Though the cops had finally arrived and managed to get most of the uninjured cordoned off and the gawkers behind a police line, it was still chaotic. Many people had been wounded, though he didn’t see any severe injuries. Most suffered from smoke inhalation, as he did, while others had cuts and bruises due to their frenzied escape from the building.

The paramedic treating him was making noises about taking him to the hospital for observation. “No,” Spike said, not really paying too much attention. His eyes had been captured by one of the firemen. He and another firefighter were walking towards the emergency vehicles from the direction of the rear entrance to the club. Spike wondered if they were the two men who had rescued him?

The man who caught his attention had removed his mask and helmet. His dark brown hair was sweaty and plastered to his head, and his face and hands were streaked with soot, but there was something about him that drew Spike’s gaze and caused his heart to start hammering in his chest. The man looked up and their eyes locked.

Spike lost track of time until he was brought back to the present by Oz’s voice. “You should let them look you over. I don’t think we have to worry about missing tomorrow night’s gig,” he said calmly.

Spike shook his head, but Oz didn’t give him time to speak. “Think about what smoke damage could do to your voice,” he said.

Spike froze, glared at Oz. “That’s bloody unfair,” he said.

“You’re being bloody ridiculous,” Angel chimed in.

“Better safe than sorry, eh?” Gunn added.

“What is this, a mutiny?” Spike asked, only partly joking.

“You’d have to be in charge for that,” Oz quipped.

“Ha bloody ha!” Spike said, and began choking.

Angel patted him on the back and pushed the oxygen mask back over his nose and mouth. Oz said, “We’ll take care of Maddy, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Might’ve gotten damaged from the smoke,” Spike said, gently picking up the guitar case. “Have Fred take a look at it, will you?”

“ _That’s_ Maddy?” a voice asked in disbelief.

Spike looked up to find himself staring into accusing brown eyes. “Yeah,” he said slowly, his voice muffled by the oxygen mask.

“You went back in for a _guitar_?” the fireman Spike wanted to pounce on and devour asked incredulously. His tone clearly indicated he thought Spike was a moron, which put his back up.

“Yeah,” he said again, this time with a bit more edge.

“You could have been _killed_ , and over a guitar!”

“Don’t diss the guitar,” Oz warned softly.

The brunette just shook his head and walked away, irritation evident in his posture and the way he was shaking his head.

“Well,” Spike said, coughing. “That went well. I think he really likes me.”

~*~*~*~  
Xander couldn’t believe it. He shook his head in disbelief. He’d walked over to the guy he and Kevin had rescued to see how he was doing, and overheard the men talking about Maddy. His chest had tightened, worried that someone _had_ been inside the building, until he realized they were talking about the guitar the blond had a death grip on.

What an idiot! he thought. Risking his life for a guitar. He couldn’t wait to share this with Willow. She’d nod her head in all the right places, commiserate with him, and then remind him how much he loved his job—which he did, badger him about his sex life, and then try to set him up with a friend of hers who reads chakras, or some other new age thing that Xander didn’t understand.

Xander had wanted to become a fireman for as long as he could remember. As a child, he had run out to the road to watch, each and every time they roared past on their way to a fire or other emergency. He remembered one time when the trucks came to a fire at the house next door. He and Willow had sat on the porch steps and watched the firefighters and paramedics until the last man left. He’d wondered for years after that whether Willow had set the fire just so he could see the trucks up close.

The night he took her out to celebrate her graduation from UC Sunnydale at the top of her class, he got drunk and asked her. She’d looked at him, appalled, though Xander thought the look had been exaggerated by alcohol, and squealed, “Xander! I can’t believe you think I’d do something like that! I mean, you _are_ my best friend, and I’d do _anything_ for you, but the Davis’s lost their prize goldfish in that fire! You know...” She leaned in confidentially. “...that whole thing could have been avoided. What started out as a _teeny tiny_ fire in the kitchen sink wouldn’t have gotten so out of control if they’d had a working smoke alarm in the kitchen.”

Xander stared at her. “How’d you know all that?”

“Read it in the paper.”

“You were seven.

“I might have overheard my mother and father talking.”

“Uh huh,” Xander replied, unconvinced.

“All right.” Willow broke down. “Mom said Mr. Davis was burning old love letters.”

“Really?” he perked up at the gossip. “From who?”

“Whom,” Willow drunkenly corrected. Xander rolled his eyes.

At the time, Mr. Davis had seemed old, but Xander now realized he’d probably only been in his mid-thirties. But it was still odd imagining him with a lover. Willow hadn’t known who it was, which meant her parents had probably realized she was there and shooed her out of the room before they continued speaking of it. Darn! Anyway, to this day, Xander still wasn’t one hundred percent certain Willow hadn’t started that fire.

He caught up to Kevin and they made their way over to the Chief as he dismissed some of the other firefighters. “What’s happening, Chief?”

“Alex,” the Chief greeted him distractedly. “I was just informing the rest of the guys...and girls,” he amended at a glare from Faith, “that we can pack it up. Carl and Toby found the fire in a storage room, and managed to put it out. Some idiot started a fire in a metal trash can. Luckily it didn’t spread, but whatever they used, it generated a lot of smoke. It’s up to the arson investigators now. All right, everyone!” He clapped his hands. “Let’s get those hoses rolled up so we can get back to the house.”

The next morning, Xander was watching cartoons with Faith when Kevin came in to tell him he had a visitor. “Looks like that blond from last night,” he added as Xander left the room. He ignored Faith’s loud “Was he cute?” and walked past the trucks to where Spike was standing on the sidewalk in front of the station. He had his back to Xander, fingers tucked into the front pockets of his jeans.

“Hey,” Xander said, and the blond whirled around.

“Hey,” he replied, and then fell silent.

“You wanted to see me?” Xander prompted.

“Oh, yeah. Wanted to thank you. For saving my life and all,” Spike said, moving nervously from foot-to-foot.

“I was just doing my job,” Xander said. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his ass against the brick.

“Right,” Spike responded, sounding a little bit disappointed to Xander’s ear.

“What in hell were you _thinking_?” Xander couldn’t help asking. “Going back in there for a guitar?”

~*~*~*~

Spike’s eyes narrowed. Who did this guy think he was? Sure, gorgeous. But that didn’t give him the right to treat him like an idiot. Spike conveniently forgot the fact that he’d _felt_ like an idiot, getting overcome with smoke just steps away from the exit, and needing to be rescued.

“Are you always this judgmental?” he asked.

The brunette’s eyes widened, then narrowed to slits. “Only when it’s well-deserved,” he snapped back. “Do you have any idea how many people die because they think that some _possession_ ,” he spat the word, “is worth going back for?” He pushed away from the wall, his arms fell to his sides, hands clenched into tight fists, face flushed with anger. “I don’t care what it is—photos or family videos or little Bobby’s favorite toy—it’s not worth dying for.” He stopped speaking and the sudden silence was deafening. He got his breathing under control, and then looked a little sheepishly at Spike. “Sorry,” he said, “for blowing up at you. As you can see, I feel kinda strongly about this.”

“Really?” Spike asked with a raised eyebrow. “I hadn’t noticed.”

The other man did an eye-roll-shrug combination. “Yeah, well....”

“Besides, it wasn’t like that. Exactly.”

Spike wasn’t sure why he felt the need to defend his actions to this man, why he didn’t just say ‘adios’ and go meet up with the guys. He’d come to say ‘thanks’, and he’d done that. Sure, he’d sensed an attraction last night—and as luck would have it, the guy looked even better with the soot washed off—but that didn’t mean he had to share his life story with a fellow he’d just met.

He looked down at the sidewalk, scuffed his toe over a crack and studied it intently. Why on earth did he care what this man thought of him? He didn’t even know him. And what he did know was superficial and limited. Fireman. Pretty. Oh, yeah! And he felt very strongly about people risking their lives by running into burning buildings. Go figure.

He glanced up at the brunette and caught the other man staring intently at him. He looked embarrassed at being caught, but didn’t look away. Spike breathed deeply and took the plunge. “My mum gave me that guitar. For my thirteenth birthday.” He swallowed hard. “She worked overtime for six months to be able to afford it. She died a couple years back. ‘S all I got left of her.”

“Oh,” Xander said. “Well, that’s.... Look, I’m sorry about your mother, and I can understand why it’s so important to you, but do you think she’d want you to die for it?”

“No,” Spike was forced to admit. He gave a little laugh as he remembered his mum. “I can hear her now. She’d have torn a strip off me with the sharp edge of her tongue, then kicked my bum for good measure.”

Xander laughed at the image Spike created, which made Spike smile back. “I’m Xander,” he said, holding out his hand. “Alexander,” he clarified, “but my friends call me Xander.”

Spike knew he must have looked gobsmacked before a smile creased his face. He reached out and took Xander’s hand. “Spike,” he said as they shook.

Xander’s eyebrows rose almost without thought. “Your _mum_ gave you that name?”

“No,” Spike admitted. “She called me William, but no one, and I mean _no one_ ,” he repeated menacingly, “calls me that and lives to tell about it.”

Xander grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You do that, mate,” Spike said, grinning back. “Well,” he reluctantly added, “I should be going. Gotta meet the rest of the band at The Bronze and make sure none of our equipment got ruined by the smoke.”

~*~*~*~

“The investigators have released the scene already?” Xander asked, surprised.

“Yeah, I guess.” Spike shrugged. “Oz said they caught the git and he’s already confessed. Some pillock the owner fired recently took it a bit personally, is what I heard.”

To his dismay, Xander wasn’t shocked. Not much surprised him these days. Something Spike had said suddenly clicked. “You’re in a band?”

Spike raised one eyebrow. “You think I take Maddy with me when I go dancing?”

Xander blushed, shrugged. “Wasn’t thinking,” he admitted sheepishly. “The other guys, they had instruments....”

“Yeah, the rest of the band. There’s me, I sing lead mostly, and play some guitar, Angel on drums, Gunn on keyboard, and Oz on guitar.”

“Angel? What kind of girly name is that for a guy?” Xander froze in embarrassment. “Sorry. Man, that was so rude.”

Spike laughed. “No worries, mate. Angel _is_ a big girl. I’ve never seen a bloke worry about his hair the way he does.”

“Even you?” Xander asked.

“Oi!” Spike ran a hand over gelled hair. He blushed, admitted, “‘M hair’s naturally curly. If I don’t gel it, I’ve got no control over it. Anyway, Angel’s not his real name, just a nickname his sister gave him. It stuck.”

“Ouch!” Xander winced. “I’d have hated to be him in school.”

“Listen, we’re playing again tomorrow night if you wanna come by and see me. Us. I meant, see us. Play. See us play.”

“The club’s reopening that quickly?”

“Yep. Oz said the owner wanted to make a statement. I figure he just didn’t want to miss out on the money. You know how many folks’ll stop in just to see what the place looks like after the fire? He’ll be rakin’ it in. I guess he’s got a platoon of people in there cleaning the place up, and even repainting some areas.” He shrugged. “I’m just glad to have the gig. So.”

“So.”

“I’ve got to get going. The guys’ll wonder where I am. You know where to find m—, us, if you want.” Spike gave a little wave, turned, and walked away, his fingers tucked back into his front pockets.

Xander watched him walk down the sidewalk, jeans tight over his ass, strands of hair that the gel missed curling at the nape of his neck, and felt an electric jolt to his groin. Crap! he thought. Spike had been so cute when he was asking him to come watch him—the band—play, but Xander wasn’t sure if he was ready to start dating again.

Not that this was a date. Spike was probably just being nice, since Xander’d saved his life and all. But, it _could_ be a date, couldn't it? If you tilted your head just _so_.

~*~*~*~

The band was already playing when Xander paid his cover charge and stepped into the dimly lit interior of The Bronze. To his right were a half dozen pool tables, to his left a bar that extended the length of the room and was staffed by five bartenders. Yep, looked like the owner thought business would be good tonight. The crowd was three deep at the bar, and every high table was in the bar area was taken.

Xander stepped up to the brass railing and looked down at the lower level. The band was playing on a raised stage. An oval-shaped dance floor was spread out beneath, with small round tables scattered around it. Ramps on each side of the room, and a staircase in the middle, led down to the lower level.

He stood and watched the stage. Spike was shoulder-to-shoulder with Oz, both singing into the microphone Spike held while Oz’s fingers moved quickly over the guitar strings. The blond wore a blue t-shirt that hugged his chest and arms, faded blue jeans with a fraying hole just above the right knee, and black combat boots.

Xander waited until the song ended and Spike had announced the next before pushing through the crowd and making his way to the bar. He ordered a beer, and then found a spot he could watch Spike from. Four hours and at least six beers later, the band finished their last set. Spike said something to the rest of the guys before disappearing off the right side of the stage, and the others started packing up instruments and equipment.

He hemmed and hawed, then shoved his way to the nearest ramp and moved to the lower level. Gunn saw him while he was standing awkwardly at the foot of the stage, rethinking his decision to come down here and wondering if he shouldn’t just leave without saying hello to Spike. The invitation had been a casual one, and it had been a while since Xander had been attracted to anyone, which made him worry that he was reading too much into it. Plus, the way his luck was going, the guy wasn’t even gay.

“Hey, the fireman, right?” Gunn asked.

“Yeah,” Xander said, hoping it was too dark for Gunn to notice him flush at being caught off-guard. “You guys are good.”

“Thanks, man,” Gunn said, pleased.

“We try,” Oz said. “You looking for Spike?”

“Uh, yeah,” Xander replied, not so much with the suave.

“He’s back in the dressing room,” Gunn offered. “Go down the hallway there, past the restrooms, and take your first right. About three quarters of the way down on the left.”

“Thanks,” Xander said, suddenly nervous. “It’s all right if I go back there? I mean, I won’t be bothering him?”

“Nah,” Oz said.

Xander waited, but he didn’t elaborate. “Um, okay.” He took a deep breath and followed Gunn’s directions. When he stood outside the door, he took a moment to steel himself, then pushed it open. Spike and another man stood across the room with their backs to him, Spike’s arm thrown casually over the other man’s shoulders as they stood close together. The blond was speaking earnestly, and then he laughed, a husky sound that would’ve sent an electric shock to Xander’s groin if he didn’t have a leaden lump in his stomach.

What an idiot he was. Of course Spike was just being polite with the invitation to come by the club, and he’d read too much into it because of his own reaction to the other man. He huffed a silent bitter laugh at himself. He’d been concerned that he wasn’t ready for another relationship, when it hadn’t been in the cards in any case.

He must have made a noise, because both men suddenly turned to look at him. “Um, hi,” he said lamely. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Xander!” Spike greeted him with a smile, letting go of the other man and moving across the room towards him. “You’re not interrupting. Come on in.”

“They said I should just come back, and.... I’m not?”

Spike shook his head and reached for Xander’s hands. “No. Not at all. I’m glad you could make it. Come on in here.”

“Oh. You two....” He waved his hand between them.

“Us two...?” Spike asked.

“I believe he thinks we’re together,” the other man, another Englishman, explained.

Xander saw Spike’s face clear of confusion. “Oh! Us two! No!” He laughed. “In fact, hell no!”

His heart fell. Christ! Spike wasn’t even gay. He felt a complete and utter dolt for more times that night than he could remember.

“I like my bollocks right where they are, thank you very much,” Spike continued.

Xander was completely confused now. “Huh?”

“Angel would have my guts for garters if he thought I was sniffin’ round his honey,” Spike clarified.

“Angel.... Huh?”

The other man took pity on him. “Since Spike isn’t going to introduce us, I will. I’m Wesley.” He shot a look at Spike and added with a trace of sarcasm, “Angel’s honey. And you are?”

“Xander,” Xander said.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Xander,” Wesley replied.

“Yes. I mean, thank you. You, too. I’m sorry. I usually know how to talk more better.” Christ, would the floor just please open up and swallow him?

“Yes, well, Spike has that affect on most people.”

“Watch it, mate....”

“Hey, girlfriend!” Gunn said with a grin as he sashayed into the room with a pretty brunette on his arm. Wesley rolled his eyes. Gunn stepped up to him and they executed an elaborate handshake. “Hey, English, how’s it hangin’?

“Who wants to know?” Angel asked as he strode into the room like he owned it.

“Angel.” Wes’ face lit up.

Xander leaned back against the wall before his legs gave out. He was so confused, and a little giddy and lightheaded. He still wasn’t sure if Spike was gay, or even interested in him, but at least he wasn’t seeing someone else. And why did he care, again? Wasn’t he just telling himself he wasn’t ready for another relationship, and one night stands just weren’t his thing. Hadn’t been his thing since he got tired of hiding behind them when Jesse left after graduation. Not to mention the fact that Spike’s friends were...a little odd.

~*~*~*~

“You all right?” Spike had kept a close eye on Xander since the moment he realized the other man was there, and watched the myriad of expressions cross his face. He jumped when Spike spoke to him, as if he hadn’t realized Spike was standing right beside him.

“Yeah! Of course. I’m...overwhelmed,” he admitted. “Your friends are kinda...overwhelming.”

Spike grinned. “They grow on you,” he said, his fingers brushing Xander’s hand. He heard the other man’s sharp intake of air.

“R-really?” he asked.

Spike wondered what Xander would do if he kissed him right now? Would it scare him away? Or is that what he wanted? Hadn’t he sounded upset when he thought Spike and Wesley were together? A sudden unwelcome thought struck Spike. Maybe he’d been disgusted. “Does it bother you?” he asked, probably sharper than he should have.

“Wh-what?” Xander asked.

“Angel and Wesley.”

“That they’re together?” Spike nodded. “No. It doesn’t bother me at all. Does it bother you?”

“Of course it doesn’t bother me! Why should it bother me?”

“Why are you yelling at me?” Xander asked.

Spike felt horrible at the sadness in Xander’s voice. He opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again. “I like you,” he said.

Xander nodded. Pursed his lips. Nodded again. Then frowned. “You yelled at me because you like me?” Spike nodded. “Geez, and here I thought your friends were odd.”

“Who’s odd?” Oz asked. Everyone turned to stare at him. He held up the keys. “Van’s parked out back.”

“Damn it, man, this was just gettin’ good, too!” Gunn huffed.

“Let’s go, Charles,” the brunette said, tugging on his hand. “Let’s get packed up so we can get something to eat. I’m starving.”

“Do you want to go with us?” Spike asked hopefully.

Xander was back to looking confused. “Go where?”

“Nina’s. An all-night diner. We go there for breakfast most nights we play.” Spike wanted to grab Xander’s hand and pull him along, not give him a chance to turn the invitation down, as the look on his face said he was going to.

“I don’t know,” Xander said, shaking his head. “I don’t want to intrude. I think I’ll pass this time.”

“Right,” Spike said in a clipped tone. Logically, he knew he didn’t have any right to be angry with Xander, but he was anyway. “Well, I’ve got to go help load the van. I’ll see you around, I guess.”

~*~*~*~

Xander watched Spike storm out the door, then looked around at the empty room. Well, that had certainly gone well. Nothing more, or less, than he’d expected, really. Pain pinched his chest and hot tears burned his eyes. What a fucking roller coaster ride this night had been. Up one minute and down, down, down the next. And both made him want to puke.

He turned around and pressed his forehead against the wall, and then banged it. What a mess this had turned in to. He hadn’t realized he could screw it up quite this badly. “I never should have come,” he muttered angrily. “Never. Should. Have. Fucking. Come. Here.” He banged his forehead against the wall with each word.

Xander straightened and braced himself on his hands. “I don’t need him. I don’t need anyone,” he said, trying to make it sound like a statement, but knowing he was trying to convince himself of it. The first guy he'd considered getting involved with since Jesse left, and he fucked it up royally. “I’m better off alone anyway.”

“No, you’re not,” a voice said behind him, and Xander whirled, his hand going to his chest where his heart just about burst out.

“Jesus Christ,” he ground out, slumping against the wall. “Are you _trying_ to kill me?”

~*~*~*~

Spike was halfway back to the stage after stalking out of the dressing room and away from Xander when he turned around and ran back. Xander was standing facing the wall, banging his head against it and muttering angrily to himself. His posture and the sound of his voice all oozed misery, and Spike felt bad that he’d done that to him. Xander had been thrown into the deep end, and instead of helping him swim, Spike had pushed him under, and then got angry when Xander didn’t float back up to the surface. But now that he had Xander’s attention, he wasn’t sure what to do with it.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“I’ll live,” Xander said, pushing himself away from the wall. “Forget something?”

“Yeah,” Spike said. “I forgot why I asked you to come here in the first place.”

“I’m actually kinda curious about that myself,” Xander said, his arms crossed protectively over his chest, eyes refusing to meet Spike’s.

“I’m not very good with words,” Spike said. “I mean, I can write ‘em pretty good, when there’s no pressure to get it right, but speaking ‘em is difficult for me.” He took a step closer to Xander and hoped this didn’t backfire. “Can I show you instead?” he asked, reaching out to brush his finger tips against the brunette’s lips.

Xander stared at him, eyes wide, and then pulled back. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Best idea I’ve had all night,” Spike said, taking another step towards him.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Xander said with a bitter laugh. “I think the one where you stormed out was pretty impressive.”

Spike pretended he hadn’t heard that comment. “The only other idea that even comes close is when I worked up the nerve to ask you to come here tonight.”

Xander shook his head, as if trying to deny Spike’s words.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since I saw you walking across the parking lot the other night, in your uniform, sweaty and smudged with soot,” he continued, not letting himself be distracted from his goal.

“See? Now that’s not normal,” Xander joked, half-seriously, and Spike could tell he was a man who hid his pain behind laughter.

“Do you have any idea how hard I got when you yelled at me?” Spike purred. Xander groaned. “I thought you were the sexiest thing on two legs at that moment. I still do,” he whispered, and gently pressed his lips to Xander’s.

The other man moaned, low and deep, and then his hands came up and grabbed Spike’s head in a punishing grip. He parted his lips in invitation, and Spike dove in eagerly. Xander tilted his head, deepened the kiss, took a half step forward until he and Spike fit together like two halves of a whole. And that’s how he felt at that moment. Whole. Complete.

“I called it!” Gunn announced loudly to the now-crowded room. Xander jumped in surprise and pulled back, blushing and nervously swiping the back of his hand across his lips. Spike just smirked at him and stepped back slowly, but not before he wiggled his hips enough to let the other man know he’d felt the erection pressing into his groin.

“Come on, pay up.” Oz and Angel grumbled while Gunn laughed and taunted them with his winnings while Fred and Wesley exchanged tolerant glances.

“Van’s all packed,” Angel said. “You coming?”

Without looking away from Xander, Spike shook his head. “I don’t think...,” he began, prepared to decline. This...thing...between him and Xander, whatever it was, whatever it might become, was something he wanted to explore. Develop.

It had been unfair of him, perhaps, to think he could drop Xander into his world, surrounded by his friends, and expect the other man to immediately feel comfortable. If Xander was anything like him, he’d had butterflies in his stomach since their conversation the day before. It would probably be best if the two of them took a little time to get to know each other before throwing Xander to the wolves.

With a hand on his, Xander stopped him from finishing his statement. Spike looked questioningly at him. “What?” he asked softly.

“I could...maybe...eat something,” Xander said, the receding flush deepening as he gazed at Spike with eyes that held promises that Spike couldn’t wait to explore.

Spike’s smile was so huge he thought it might split his face.

~*~*~*~

Xander and Spike had been ‘seeing each other’ for just over three weeks now. They’d gone out to dinner once and, though there wasn’t enough of it, on the few occasions he had the time off, Xander watched the band perform at The Bronze, or another hole in the wall club they played frequently, Willy’s Alibi. He sat at a small table to the side of the stage with Wesley and Gunn’s girlfriend, Fred, reveling in the fact that everyone knew he was there with the band. With Spike. One day when they weren’t scheduled to play, Xander got to watch them practice.

Spike had so much energy when he performed, whether it was at a paying gig or practice session, it made Xander tired just watching him. It also made him very, very horny. After each performance he joined the group for an early morning breakfast at Nina’s. But before that, Spike would pull him into his arms and kiss him senseless before leaving him standing stupefied while he wandered off and helped the rest of the band pack up their equipment.

Their relationship was still new and they were taking their time, getting to know each other. They’d shared some kisses—god, had they kissed!—and some intense groping, but Spike always pulled back before they went too far. It was sweet, Xander thought, that Spike wanted him for more than sex, that he wanted Xander to know how much he cared for him before taking their relationship to ‘another level’. And it was driving Xander _insane_.

He was jerking off more now than when he’d been single. Sometimes before _and_ after spending a night with Spike and his friends. Though it wasn’t his intent, the blond left him desperate and frustrated, and had barely closed the door behind him some nights before Xander was shoving his pants down to bring himself the relief Spike denied him. And often, just the knowledge that he’d be seeing Spike got Xander so worked up he had to take care of it before he left the apartment to meet him.

Case in point, tonight. He’d been scheduled to work, but Travis, the guy he’d been filling in for so he could attend a family funeral out-of-town, was eager to make up the time he'd lost. Since he wasn’t back on the schedule yet, Travis asked Xander if he wanted the night off. Knowing that Spike was playing that night, Xander jumped at the opportunity. The fact that they were scheduled to play at a club Xander had only heard of, but not yet had the opportunity to visit, had only made his decision that much easier.

The line outside the Viper’s Nest extended nearly half a block when Xander arrived. He strode past the waiting throng with a skip in his step, excited about surprising Spike. At the door Xander showed the pass Spike had given him, which indicated that he was with the band. The bouncer let him in with barely a glance at it. Xander heard whispers and grumbling behind him, but his heart was too light for him to care.

When his eyes had adjusted to the darkness he scanned the club and easily found the band’s table. A quick head count showed him that everyone was seated around it except Spike. Xander grinned. That meant the blond was still backstage. Alone. He didn’t bother fighting his way through the crowd to the table, just found the nearest waitress and asked for directions, then headed off to find Spike.

His heart was pounding and he was perspiring—nerves and excitement both conspiring against him—by the time he reached the room the band had been given for their use. Without knocking, Xander pushed the door open and stepped inside. Spike wasn’t alone, as he’d thought. A small blond girl was pressed against him, her hand at the back of his head pulling his face down for a kiss. Confused at what he was seeing, the smile froze on Xander's face, and then died as realization set in.

Xander heard a small, distressed whimper, barely registering that it was his, and then Spike was pushing the girl away from him and looking up. “Xander,” he said, eyes widening, the color leaching from his skin.

“Spike,” Xander responded, surprised at how even his voice was.

“I thought you couldn’t make it,” Spike said.

Inane conversation? Xander thought. “Got the night off,” he replied. “Thought I’d surprise you.” He waited a beat. “Surprise.”

“I’m glad you came,” Spike said, and Xander thought it was odd that they were ignoring the girl standing between them, like the elephant in the corner everyone was pretending not to see.

“I can see that.” Ah, his good friend, sarcasm. “Sorry to interrupt, by the way, I didn’t realize you were _with_ anyone,” he ground out, his words holding double meaning. Had the bastard already been cheating on him with someone else? Or...oh, god, had he been cheating on _her_ with Xander? Was he the other woman...man?

“You’re not interrupting,” Spike insisted. Xander wasn’t sure, but he thought Spike looked worried about his reaction to what he had witnessed. As he should! “Buffy was just leaving.” Spike gave the woman...Buffy, Xander presumed...a meaningful look.

“Actually, I wasn’t,” she said, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the room. “I thought I’d stay for the show. You were always way hot when you performed.”

She batted her eyelashes at Spike and Xander thought he was going to be sick.

Spike ignored her provocative statement, though it had made Xander see red. “Parker know you’re here?” he asked, and Buffy’s expression turned hard.

“Parker and I aren’t seeing each other at the moment,” she replied with a smile that bordered on smug.

“So you came slumming,” Spike guessed. “What’s the matter? He still in rehab? Or did he already piss away all daddy’s money?”

“You bastard,” she hissed.

“Get out, Buffy, before I have to call security,” Spike threatened.

“Spike, where the hell are you? It’s almost....” Angel barreled into the room and stopped on a dime. “Buffy. What are you doing here?”

“Hello, Angel,” Buffy simpered, looking him over with a look that could only be described as hungry.

Angel ignored her, but took in the positioning of Xander and Spike, and turned to the blond. “Are you all right?”

“Will be, once she leaves and I have a chance to speak with Xan.”

Spike shot a glance over at Xander, who’d been caught up in the tableau playing out before him. He snapped back to attention at the sound of his name. “I’m leaving,” Xander announced.

Spike turned to him and reached out a hand. “No. Xander, please....”

“Angel, what’s taking so long? The crowd is getting...restless,” Wesley finished as he stepped into the room. “Buffy,” he said. Though he sounded very proper, he looked as if he’d bitten into a sour grape.

“Wesley,” she responded, sounding no happier to see him than he was to see her. “Still seeing Angel?” She sounded bitter.

Wes simply replied, “Yes.”

“That’s it? Just...yes?”

“What did you expect?” Wesley asked. “A blow-by-blow account?”

Xander barely managed to keep a straight face. He wondered how the shock of seeing Spike kissing Buffy had turned even the slightest bit towards humor. It was almost surreal. At the reminder, he glanced at the blond and saw that Spike was staring back at him. The near smile died and he turned his face away.

“Spike told me he’s seeing someone,” Buffy said, crossing her arms in front of her. “Is that true?” she demanded imperiously.

“Yes.”

Buffy sighed. “Could you be a little bit more forthcoming, Wesley? I know you’re an uptight British guy, but, please.” She rolled her eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Wesley said, sounding almost gleeful...for an uptight British guy. “I thought you’d already met. Buffy, this is Xander. Xander, Buffy.”

Xander forced himself to meet her gaze when Buffy turned to look at him. Her nostrils flared angrily, her lips thinned to a tight line, and her face paled. She turned accusing eyes on Spike. “Him?” she yelled. “You’re sleeping with a guy?”

“I’m sure it’s not you. It could just be coincidence,” Wesley suggested helpfully.

Buffy turned her glare onto Wesley. “Shut up, Wesley!” She stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind her. They all stared at the door, and then glanced at each other.

The door immediately opened again and everyone turned to look at it. Oz peeked inside. “Whoa,” he remarked. “Hurricane Buffy.” No one answered him, but it seemed he didn’t expect one. He looked around the room, and then backed his head out. “The crowd’s getting loud. No hurry, though. I’ll just let Gunn know what the hold up is.”

“Well,” Wesley said once the door had closed, rubbing his hands together nervously, “that went well. Always a pleasure to run into Buffy. Are you all right?” He turned to Angel and held out his hand.

“I’m fine, Wes. Your timing, as always...” He took Wesley’s hand and drew him in close. “...was impeccable.”

Wesley smiled, then turned serious. “She didn’t upset you?” He ran his hand up Angel’s arm and then patted his chest, as if looking for physical wounds.

“No,” Angel reassured him, and then turned to Spike. “She was working on Spike this time. Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked.

“‘M fine. Just need to talk to Xan.” Spike glanced at him worriedly.

Xander felt as if he’d been tossed down the rabbit hole. The excitement he’d felt at the thought of seeing Spike tonight, of surprising him, had turned to pain at the sight of him in the arms of another. His stomach churned and he thought he might throw up. He wasn’t sure he was going to be able to hold it together much longer. Tears burned behind his eyes, but he blinked them away.

“Yeah, you know, I...I don’t think I can do this,” he said.

Xander looked at Spike, searing the image of the blond into his mind so he could take it out later and rip his heart to shreds with it, and then turned towards the door.

~*~*~*~

Spike practically dove for him. “No! Xander, please.” Both hands on Xander’s biceps held him still, but he refused to look at Spike. “Please don’t go. At least, not until you let me explain.”

Xander didn’t bother attempting to pull out of Spike’s grip, but curled his shoulders in protectively, tilted his head to look up at Spike, and then asked, “Why not?”

As much as it scared him to admit it to himself, much less say the words out loud, there was no way he couldn’t, not if it would keep Xander from leaving. Not if it would chase away the hurt he could see so clearly in Xander’s eyes.

“Because I think I’m falling in love with you, and it would kill me if you left,” Spike immediately whispered.

Xander shuddered, and then stiffened beneath Spike’s hands at the words. He turned his head away. “Then why were you kissing her?” he asked around a clenched jaw.

“I wasn’t...,” Spike began, and Xander shot a disbelieving look at him. “I know what it looked like, Xan, but I wasn’t kissing her. She tried to kiss me, but I pushed her away. I told her to leave, I swear I did. I don’t want to kiss her, only want to kiss you,” he insisted softly, taking a step closer so he could rest his forehead against Xander’s.

Spike could feel the indecision in Xander’s body. He rubbed his hands up and down Xander’s arms. “Only you,” he whispered again.

“Who is she?” Xander asked.

There was a pause, and Spike and Angel spoke at the same time, “My ex.”

Xander jerked at the reminder that they weren’t alone, and Spike turned his head to glare at the other man.

‘Sorry,’ he mouthed, shrugging.

Aloud he said, “And Spike’s ex,” just as Spike said, “And Angel’s ex.”

Xander groaned.

Keeping one hand on Xander’s arm, Spike whirled on Angel and Wesley. “You two really aren’t helping here. Maybe you could go offer yourselves up as sacrifices to the ravening horde out there and give us some privacy, yeah?”

Angel looked ready to disagree, but Wesley took his hand and squeezed. “We should probably go see if we can appease the crowd before they storm the stage.” Angel melted at Wesley’s touch and Spike rolled his eyes. “Take your time,” Wesley added as he pulled Angel out the door.

“Within reason!” Angel called back just before the door closed behind them.

With a sigh of relief, Spike turned back to Xander. “Xan?”

Xander didn’t speak, but rolled his eyes so that he was looking into Spike’s.

“All right, I’ll give it to you quick, and then you can ask me any questions you want, okay?”

Xander nodded his agreement. From the front of the club Spike heard Angel’s voice over the sound system, “Welcome to the Viper’s Nest!” and the crowd’s raucous response. “I’m Angel,” applause, “on keyboards is Gunn,” more applause, “and Oz is on guitar,” even more applause. “And with our lead singer, Spike, we’re Vampyre!” The crowd went wild at Angel’s intro. “We apologize for the delay, but we’ll make it up to you.” Drunken yells of approval reached the dressing room. “Spike’s gonna be a couple more minutes, but we thought we’d start playing for you and maybe you can sing along with us. You all know this one,” Angel said, and then the band began playing and the crowd let out a cheer.

Spike tuned out the music and the crowd. “Buffy.” He paused to gather his thoughts. “She was Angel’s girl, oh, three years ago now. Their parents knew each other, part of the moneyed set, so it was just expected that they’d end up together.” He snorted. “Turns out Angel’s a poofter. He went along with his parents’, well, father’s wishes, really, as long as he could. Until he met Wes and fell ass over teakettle. Buffy didn’t take it well when Angel broke it off and started seeing another guy, as you might imagine. She decided that the best way to get back at Angel was to take up with his best friend. Me, in case you were wondering,” he explained softly, and almost got a half-smile for his efforts.

Xander sobered quickly and asked, “You’re not gay?”

“Bi,” Spike told him.

“Am I your first guy?” Xander asked, his voice hitching, and Spike could tell he was worried about being merely an experiment.

“No,” he hastily replied, wanting to reassure him.

“Was she your first...?”

“No,” Spike admitted softly.

“Okay,” Xander said, and nodded for him to continue.

Spike closed his eyes to help him remember where he’d left off. “So I was the rebound. Should’ve realized she was just using me to get back at Angel, and part of me probably did, but it was difficult to think straight when Buffy was giving you all her attention.” He sighed. “She did everything she could to make him jealous, make him want her back, but he didn’t even see her anymore; couldn’t see her past Wes. Took me a while to see it, to admit to myself what I already knew, but by then it didn’t matter. She’d gotten tired of me, or of me not getting her what she really wanted. I wasn’t really in her class, see?”

“No,” Xander said, and Spike darted his eyes up to gaze into warm brown eyes. He smiled.

“Thanks, luv. Anyway, she went off and found herself a boy she could take home to mommy and daddy....”

“Parker?”

“Yeah, Parker. Got herself engaged. Only turns out Parker isn’t as malleable, or as perfect, as she thought he’d be.”

“Is that why you asked her if she’d come slumming?” Xander asked.

“Yeah,” Spike said. “Lookin’ for a little excitement from the wrong side of the tracks. Maybe show Parker that he’s not the only one got a piece on the side.”

“You’re not ‘slumming’, Spike,” Xander said, lifting a hand to touch Spike’s face.

Spike couldn’t resist the urge to pull Xander into his arms. One hand on his back, the other tangled in his hair, Spike buried his face in Xander’s neck. “I wouldn’t want her, Xander, even if I wasn’t already halfway in love with you.”

Arms that had fallen loosely around Spike tightened. “She, um, doesn’t know you’re bi?” Xander asked, his voice a little shakey.

“No. Not something I advertised before. Most of my relationships with guys were of the, well, less than serious variety. Angel knew, but I never met a guy I wanted _more_ with, ya know? ‘Til you.”

Xander sobbed in relief. “Spike.”

“Xander, I’m so sorry I had any part in hurting you. I don’t ever want to hurt you. Please forgive me, luv, please.”

“It did hurt,” Xander admitted. “I was so...jealous when I saw.... I’m not even sure I have the right to _be_ jealous.” Xander let out a self-deprecating snort.

“You do!” Spike pulled back so he could look into Xander’s eyes. “Oh, Xander, you do, but you don’t have to be, ‘cause you’re all I want.”

The look in Xander’s eyes told Spike that Xander believed him, forgave him for the unintentional pain he’d caused. “Thank you,” Spike whispered, placing a kiss against Xander’s lips. “Won’t happen again.” Another kiss. “Never hurt you, Xan.”

~*~*~*~

Xander’s heart felt so light he thought he might float away; the only thing grounding him was the feel of Spike’s hands on him, Spike’s lips on his. The hurt he’d felt when he saw Spike and Buffy together had dissipated to a dull ache at Spike’s explanation and assurances that he’d never meant to hurt Xander, would never intentionally hurt him. But what had him flying was Spike’s admission that he thought he was falling in love with Xander.

Xander knew he’d been seeing Spike exclusively since they started dating, something that wasn’t difficult to accomplish when you’d dropped out of the dating pool, but he wasn’t sure if Spike was serious about him. Xander didn’t want to share Spike if they took things to the next level, but they’d been moving so slowly that the issue had never come up. If his reaction tonight was any indication, he didn’t want to share Spike at all.

The next time Spike kissed him, Xander parted his lips and darted his tongue out. Spike’s moan sent a shock through Xander that went straight to his groin. Feeling the sudden need to claim his love, Xander swung them around and stepped forward until Spike’s back hit the wall as he deepened the kiss they shared.

Pulling back, breathing raggedly, Xander said, “Just us.”

“Yes,” Spike agreed just as breathlessly.

“Just you for me, and just me for you.”

“Yes, Xander....”

Xander covered Spike’s mouth once more, silencing him, and gently brought their hips together. He groaned when he felt Spike’s answering hardness pressing into him.

Spike pushed Xander back until he could speak. “Want you, Xan.”

Xander rubbed their erections together. “Yeah, you do, don’t you?” he teased as he nibbled his way along Spike’s jaw and down his neck.

“Oh, yeah,” Spike agreed, placing both hands on Xander’s ass and pulling him closer. “Do it!” he hissed, tilting his head back as Xander tongued a sensitive spot on his neck.

After the roller coaster ride his heart had taken that night, Xander couldn’t resist the urge to mark Spike, to show everyone that the gorgeous blond was taken. That Spike was _his_. Xander closed his teeth on Spike’s throat and the other man shivered. He licked, and then sucked softly, and Spike whimpered. Xander sucked hard, desperately, and Spike bucked against him.

Xander reluctantly let go of Spike and moved away. Spike whined his protest and tried to pull Xander back. Xander took Spike’s wrists and pinned them to the wall beside his head. “You need to get on stage,” he explained.

“That can wait,” Spike insisted hopefully.

Lighthearted, Xander grinned. “You’ll be thinking only of me, won’t you?” he asked plaintively, then let go of Spike’s wrists and stepped away from him.

Spike’s lips curled. “Bastard,” he said lovingly as he adjusted his hard-on.

“If you’re really good, I’ll take care of you later,” Xander promised, and then headed for the door, grin widening when he heard Spike groan behind him.

Before he reached the door Spike was behind him, slipping a hand in his, and they walked down the hallway so close together it was difficult to see where one ended and the other began. When they neared the backstage area, Xander saw Wesley waiting for them.

“He’s coming,” Wesley said into the headset he wore, and immediately the music changed.

Xander recognized the first chords of the bands’ most popular song. Apparently, the crowd did, too, as they began to clap and stomp their feet. Spike took the earpiece Wesley held out to him and stuck it in his ear, gave Xander a quick kiss on the lips and a grin that promised all sorts of naughty things, and then turned and bounded onto the stage. Xander barely heard the crowd scream as he raised his fingers to his lips.

Suddenly Wesley appeared right in front of him looking concerned. “You all right?” he asked worriedly.

Xander grinned happily and rearranged himself in his jeans. “Yeah,” he said, “I’m good.”

~*~*~*~

It was a good thing Spike knew the words to all the songs on their play list backwards and forwards, whether he’d written them or they were covers, because, despite the fact that the crowd had forked over good money to see him and the other guys perform, he wasn’t paying them a lick of attention. All of his concentration was focused on Xander. His Xander.

He knew Xander was hard. Not because the other man had slid down on the chair and his hand would occasionally disappear beneath the table, but because of his eyes. One might think that Spike couldn’t see Xander in the dark club, with the smoke and the lights, but one would be wrong. His gaze had been caught by the heat in Xander’s eyes ever since the other man had emerged from backstage with Wes and taken a seat at the bands’ table with Fred.

Heat that had kept Spike, already stiff from Xander’s kisses, and the memory of Xander’s lips on his neck, hard enough to pound rock. He wondered if the crush of people in the club were aware of the state he was in, and the thought that they _did_ know, that they saw him staring at Xander and knew he was hot for the other man, set his cock to throbbing painfully in his tight jeans.

One thing was certain, Spike thought. Xander knew. Xander, who responded to something Fred said to him, who smiled at the waitress when she placed a fresh drink in front of him, who leaned close to Wesley to ask him a question, and then each and every time turned his full attention back to the stage, back to Spike, and licked his lips as if he could still taste Spike on them. And then his hand would disappear back under the table, his arm would give a little jerk as he squeezed and pulled, or rearranged himself. Spike thanked God that he’d taken voice lessons so that he could still sing despite the fact that it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.

The band took three breaks during their performance. During the first break they disappeared backstage and into the room they’d been given for their use, drank bottled water and wiped the sweat off their faces and necks. Spike changed his sweat-soaked t-shirt and was slipping the clean one on just as Fred, Wesley, and a flushed Xander appeared in the doorway.

“You guys are hot tonight!” Wesley said proudly. “The crowd is just soaking it in. You’ve really got them....”

Spike tuned out the rest of Wesley’s comments and walked over to Xander, who leaned nervously against the wall. Spike leaned one shoulder against the wall beside Xander and took a long drink of water from the bottle he’d snagged off the table. He knew Xander was watching him, and to make matters more interesting—not that they weren’t quite interesting as things stood—Spike tipped the bottle up farther and let a trickle of water run down his chin. He made a loud ‘hah’ to show that the water had hit the spot, and used the back of the hand holding the bottle to wipe his chin off. He watched Xander as the other man watched the bead of water run down his throat.

“Is he right?” Spike asked, and Xander’s eyes jerked up to meet his.

“Huh?” Xander asked, blushing when he realized that Spike had been observing him as he stared, and Spike wished they were alone so he could press the other man against the wall and find some relief for his aching prick.

“Wesley, is he right? Were we hot?” he drawled.

Xander’s blush deepened, and Spike could swear he smelled the other man’s desire.

“Yes,” Xander croaked, and Spike’s gaze was drawn to Xander’s lips. Lips he wanted to taste once more; lips he wanted to hear whisper sweet nothings, scream in pleasure, and talk dirty to him; lips he wanted to feel against his skin; lips he wanted to see as they wrapped around his cock....

As if Xander had read his mind, he slipped his hand behind Spike’s neck, and then up through sweat-slicked hair to the back of his head, and pulled him in for a kiss. It seemed a shame to call it just a kiss, though. It was hot, and wet, and dirty, just the way he liked it. A cleared throat behind him reminded them of the fact that they weren’t alone, and ended the kiss long before Spike was ready to relinquish Xander’s lips. Spike considered killing Angel, best friend or not.

“Break’s over,” Angel said, apologetic, yet firm.

“Right,” Spike responded, and then leaned his forehead against Xander’s and whispered so that only Xander could hear him, “Tonight, yeah?”

Xander moaned. “Oh, yeah,” he agreed, and Spike grinned at him.

“Hold that thought,” he teased.

“Rather be holding you,” Xander countered.

Spike groaned and pulled away from him. Taking Xander’s hand in his, Spike followed the others out the door and down the hallway, tugging Xander after him. Backstage he reluctantly let go of Xander’s hand and stuck his earpiece in. Just as they were climbing the steps to the stage, Xander called out to him.

“Spike?”

“Yeah?” He turned quickly back to Xander.

“Wesley was right.”

Spike tilted his head in question.

“You were hot up there. Very hot,” he purred, and then left with Wes and Fred, leaving Spike behind to rearrange himself in his jeans before stepping on stage with the rest of the band.

~*~*~*~

There were two more breaks, and during each one Spike made sure he kept his distance from Xander. It made no difference; Xander felt like he was burning up just by being in the same room with Spike. They talked about inconsequential things—how the band was doing, what other songs they knew, how the crowd was reacting—anything but what they really wanted to talk about...not that talking was what they really wanted to do.

They looked at each other, the glances gaining in substance until they were physical things. The first touch against his skin was light as a feather, tickling, and each subsequent look grew in weight until the touch was heavy as a hand placed over his heart, or cupping his groin and squeezing gently. With each look Xander could _feel_ Spike’s want for him.

Three hours and two encores after they’d started, the band finished playing and trooped back to their dressing room. They were all in the midst of wiping sweaty torsos and pulling on dry sweats and t-shirts when Xander was hustled into the room. He blushed at the sight of Oz’s bare ass, but the four men seemed unconcerned that they had an audience. Once dressed, they threw their dirty stage clothes into duffel bags that Wes and Fred took charge of, and then went off to break down their equipment so they could load it into the van.

Spike didn’t touch him, but Xander could read the promise in his gaze each time their eyes met, and he wondered if he’d be able to make it through breakfast. When the van was loaded, they met near the back door. Xander stood nervously with his hands in his pockets; he felt uncertain, as he had that first night. He jerked to attention when he heard Spike tell Angel that he and Spike weren’t going to accompany the rest of them to the diner.

“We-we’re not?” Xander asked into the surprised silence, drawing everyone’s attention to him.

Spike looked at him, then looked him over before letting their eyes meet once more. Xander’s breath caught. Oh.

“Not this time,” Spike purred.

“Ah, ah, okay,” Xander croaked, hoping no one noticed that he once more sported a hard-on.

“Okay,” Oz said with a shrug, and then climbed behind the wheel. It was the catalyst that got everyone else moving, and soon Spike and Xander were standing alone at the back door.

“You drove, right?” Spike asked.

Xander laughed nervously. “Um, yeah.” He stared at Spike until the other man raised his eyebrows in a ‘well?’ gesture. “Oh, right! Parking lot.” He pointed unnecessarily towards the club’s parking lot.

Spike grinned at his anxiety. “Shall we?”

“Yeah, sure, of course! Just...this way.” Xander led the way to his SUV and unlocked the passenger side door for Spike, then walked around to the driver’s side. He gripped the keys hard and hoped he wasn’t going to make a fool out of himself.

Xander’s hands shook as he started the vehicle and pulled out of the parking lot. Two miles down the road they were still shaking. He pulled over and parked, then slammed both palms against the steering wheel.

“Xan?”

“Sorry,” Xander said. He looked out the window beside him. “I’m such a jerk,” he said.

“Xander?” Spike said his name again, sounding more worried.

“I’m just.... I’m really nervous,” he admitted, glancing quickly at Spike to gauge his reaction. “What if...? I just don’t want to screw this up.”

“Oh, Xander, you’re not going to screw anything up, luv,” Spike assured him.

Xander heard the click as Spike unfastened his seatbelt and moved closer to him. “It’s been awhile for me.”

“For a relationship, or sex?” Spike asked as he placed his hand on Xander’s chest, right over his heart.

“Heh! Both. I want it to be good. I want it to be so good you’ll want to stay.” Xander took a deep breath and tried not to cry like a girl.

“I already want to stay,” Spike softly responded, moving his thumb in a small circle. “And it’ll be perfect.”

Xander snorted. “Not too much pressure, now.”

Spike slid his hand up to Xander’s face and turned it so Xander couldn’t avoid looking at him. “Perfect ‘cause it’s with you, Xan. Even if we fall asleep on the couch. I just want to be with you.”

“Wow.” Xander laughed nervously. “That’s.... That’s really nice.”

Spike waggled his eyebrows, then leaned forward and placed his lips against Xander’s with the softest pressure. When Xander thought he’d never move, Spike brushed his lips over Xander’s, and then paused to nibble on his bottom lip while his fingers moved into the hair at the back of Xander’s neck. Xander moaned. Spike licked Xander’s lips with quick, light, teasing flicks of his tongue.

“Spike,” Xander groaned, and Spike rewarded him by slipping his tongue into Xander’s mouth.

As if he’d been awakened, Xander stopped sitting back and letting Spike kiss him, and started kissing back. Tongues met; Xander allowed Spike to search his mouth, and then returned the favor. When Spike finally pulled back, both men were breathing heavily.

“Still nervous?” Spike asked.

“No,” Xander rasped. “Horny, though.” He grinned sheepishly.

Spike looked down at his lap, and Xander blushed.

“That’s quite a weapon you’ve got there,” Spike said. He slowly dragged his hand down Xander’s body and cupped the weapon in question. Squeezed. Xander moaned. “Probably not safe to drive with this thing loaded.”

“No,” Xander agreed, breaking off with a gasp as Spike unbuttoned his jeans. “Oh, god, Spike, we can’t....” Xander looked around them nervously, and then threw his head back against the seat as Spike’s hand reached inside his boxers and pulled him out. “Shit, Spike, what if...?”

“Look at you, Xan. You’re so beautiful. Slide down,” Spike whispered, and Xander immediately fumbled with his seatbelt while Spike stroked him.

With the seatbelt out of the way, Xander slid down to give Spike better access. “This is crazy,” he hissed.

“Want me to stop?” Spike asked, twisting his hand around the head of Xander’s cock when he reached the top, and then palming the tip.

“God, no!” Xander reached for Spike. He knew his eyes probably looked wild, but instead of pulling away from the crazy man, Spike smiled at him, and then leaned down and took Xander into his mouth. “Oh, oh god, yeah, shit, Spike, that’s.... Christ that’s good!”

It wasn’t the first time Xander had been sucked off in a car, but it was the first time Spike had ever touched him like this. The first time he’d felt Spike’s hand, Spike’s mouth on him. The first time he’d looked down on Spike’s head as it bobbed in his lap. Please, God, he thought, don’t let it be the last, and then he grabbed for Spike’s hair, bucked his hips, and came.

**Author's Note:**

> And that's all they wrote, folks. I apologize that I was never able to finish this story, but I hope you enjoyed reading what there was of it. *g*


End file.
